


Who knew ghosts could cum?

by ShadyCarson



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Dead Handsome Jack (Borderlands), Deception, Door Sex, Dubious Consent, Just the Tip, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Not Beta Read, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut, Spit is not lube people, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyCarson/pseuds/ShadyCarson
Summary: Handsome Jack is dead. Rhys is devastated that his hero died two weeks after he started at Hyperion. But all is not lost! The late CEO's ghost is happily terrorizing the employees on Helios, and Rhys is determined to meet his idol. Dead or Alive.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 83





	Who knew ghosts could cum?

Rhys had been at Hyperion for two weeks when it was announced that Handsome Jack was dead. It was all over the air, the echo net, every screen in the Hub of Heroism. Handsome Jack, dead. Every outlet advised that he had gone out in a blaze of glory, like a true hero, but knowing that didn't make Rhys feel any better. His Idol, the man he came to Hyperion for was gone. All of his dreams of rising up through the ranks, making head of Propaganda, putting himself in Handsome Jack's orbit… it all went out the airlock. Vaughn did his best to comfort his friend during his time of grieving, but he never really could understand the obsession. Jack had been terrifying, truly terrifying. And even after his death, he still somehow struck fear into the hearts of all Hyperion employees. 

It has been two months since Handsome Jack’s death when the rumors started. At first it was standard Hyperion fair. An occasional missing person here, someone being found dead in their office there. For awhile it just seemed like people were trying to make plays for status since the golden throne had been left open. But then, a pattern started up. Everyone who had been killed thus far had all been in contention for CEO. The head of accounting was found with his head smashed in a copier, xeroxes of his deformed face being spat out from the other end. A pompous executive from acquisitions had been found stuck to a way with office supplies. At least three of the Board members who had been vying for Handsome Jack’s replacement were missing, only to then be seen floating by the window in the Hub of Heroism. Their faces twisted in horror. 

Soon, even the hire ups stopped talking about replacing their late CEO. All too terrified as to where that discussion would get them. 

Then… the laughing started. 

People would be going about their day, getting food in the Hub, walking in and out of offices, when a loud cackling laugh would break out across the space. Everyone knew that laugh. They had heard it for years and knew immediately to be scared. But now, it was so much worse because the man associated with that maniacal cackle had died...

It wasn't hard for the idea that Handsome Jack’s ghost was haunting Helios to gain steam, and Rhys was right there with them. He had heard the laughter himself. Seen the results of random airlockings floating by on his way to Propaganda. Seen random co-workers trip on nothing, sending stacks of paperwork or echos crashing to the ground. Hell, he got to personally witness the bane of his existence getting his hair pulled out by unseen hands as the man ran for his life from his office. 

Rhys will admit, the deranged gleeful laugh that followed Vasquez out the door hadn't scared him like it should have. Honestly, he had to awkwardly duck walk back to his cubicle with a half cub as the chills from hearing that giddy chuckle clung to his spine. So really, it should be no surprise to anyone that Rhys planned to go out and find his idol. Dead or Alive, if Handsome Jack was still on Helios, Rhys wanted to meet him. 

-

When the apartment door closes behind him, Rhys lets out a held breath. He made it out without Vaughn’s notice. A feat in itself with how light a sleeper the shorter man is. 

Rhys decides to start in the Hub of Heroism, but after an hour of no events, he starts to wander the halls. Ending up in parts of Helios that he's never been to before. The space station was still new, and new to him. He didn't get much of a chance to explore when he got here, and with his work hours and semi recent cybernetic upgrades, it had just never been possible. The auburn haired man is regretting it now as he realizes that he is not sure where exactly he is… It could be R & D, but it could also be many other departments. It wouldn't be the first time Rhys damned the sameness of each department's décor. 

Coming to a junction, Rhys presses forward to an automated door that silently slides open to another hallway with a bend up ahead. He is barley through when the sounds of running feet meets his ears, causing him to stop and focus ahead. Rhys can't help when he slams his back against the frame of the door behind him in surprise as a man comes full tilt around the corner.

He looks on terrified, eyes wild. His clothes are out of place, lab coat ripped, there are red marks around his neck… is that… is that blood?!

Rhys goes to open his mouth, but before anything can come out he hears it. Back from where the unknown male came from. It starts low and distant, soon gaining in volume and strength. The jovial sound is almost deafening, like it fills up the space around him and sucks out all the air.

The other man trips when he hears it, falling in a tangle of limbs and lab coat, smacking into the ground so hard the Rhys can't help but wince. 

The man scrambles at the ground for purchase, willing his arms to push him up, but his panic is overriding his physical actions. 

The laughter is on them now. No mistaking that the source of it is practically on top of the other man who is only a few feet from Rhys himself. 

Rhys doesn't see the blow, but he can hear the impact of it against the scientist's side and the pained yell the other man lets out. His body jerked by an unseen force. The blow is hard enough to flip the other man over onto his back, and Rhys can see the darkening of his slacks as the man pisses his pants. Head on a frantic swivel as he hopelessly attempts to see his attacker. 

Rhys would be a liar if he said he wasn't horrified, but he would also be a liar if he tried to claim that he was hard as a rock in his slacks. Years of following everything Handsome Jack had ever done, years of hearing his voice, his laugh, and imagining. Rhys couldn't help but maybe agree with Vaughn… he was really fucked up wasn't he?

So wrapped up on his thoughts, Rhys didn't even realize that he had let out a whimper until it registered that the hallway was now silent. 

Focusing back to the man on the ground, he could see where he laid prone, neck stretched out at an odd angle. His face was red, eyes bloodshot and Rhys could see he was straining. Rhys couldn't see the hands around the other man's neck, but he could just make out the indents where it looked like hands would be. Veins bungling and the whole area starting to bruise. 

Through all that, through being strangled by Handsome Jack’s ghost, the other man was looking straight at him with incredulity!

Rhys could feel his face flush, embarrassment and shame warming his skin red. Before he could try and play it off, the other man let out a grunt and took a deep breath. As if a heavy pressure was suddenly off his chest. 

He sat still for only a moment longer before vaulting to his feet and sprinting towards the door. Rhys could only look on in shock as the scientist disappeared through the door, hearing a light swish as it closed behind him. 

Silence…

The entire hallway was silent. Completely silent. Rhys could feel his heart rate pick up as it settled in his mind that he was alone… alone with Handsome Jack’s ghost. Handsome Jack’s ghost that just tried to kill that guy.

Handsome Jack’s ghost that just tried to kill that guy and got interrupted by Rhys… 

"I’m going to die!"

Pushing away from the door frame the auburn haired man threw himself towards the door, only to see the panel next to it lit up red. The words “Executive Override” gleaming back at him.

Rhys spun back towards the hallway, pressing his back up against the closed door, eyes frantically searching for any sign of the specter that locked him in. But there was nothing… no form, no outline, no cackling laughter that would give away where the other being was.

Nothing prepared the tall man for the solid hand on his jaw, the rough grip of calloused fingers, or the swift little jerk of his head to the right. Letting out a squeak, Rhys tried to push away from the grip, but jumped with the sound of a loud smack hitting the side of the door to his left. Right next to his head!!

Wide eyed and with a whimper, Rhys went limp. Every scenario about how he was going to die playing out in his head. 

He had so much to do! So much more to accomplish!

The grasp on his jaw tightened, keeping him from getting completely lost in his head. He could practically feel the bruises forming. Jumping at the feel of a second hand on his face, Rhys whimpered again. Staying as still as possible. The second hand traveled up his cheek, a rough thumb resting underneath his echo eye and dragging the skin down… as if it was inspecting it?

What a strange thought to Rhys. Why would a ghost want to inspect his eye? Sure, they are rare and all, and even Rhys was still getting used to his since it was so new… but why would a ghost care? 

Looking out in front of him, Rhys stared at the open hallway. Still seeing nothing, it dawned on the other man that he may be able to see what had him with his eye!

If he has been free to move, he would have face palmed himself hard enough to leave a bruise. 

Concentrating, Rhys thought about activating his cybernetics, slow to start up as he was still getting used to them. 

But before his echo eye could come online, the hand below his eye moved and a rough touch was dragged directly across his port. 

Sizzling tingles shot through Rhys’ body, sending a bolt of delight down his spine to rest warmly in his groin. Nothing could stop the cybernetic man from letting his eyes slip closed and the punched out moan that came from parted lips. 

He didn't even realize he had closed his eyes until he opened them again, only to see that the hallway had gone dark.

Only the small yellow walkway lights lining the floor illuminated the hallway. Rhys then realized the hands that had been holding him were gone. He felt no presence in front of him, but that didn't stop him from tentatively reaching out with his flesh hand and waiving at the air.

Rhys was sure he looked like an idiot, but the confusion overrode his possible embarrassment. Caught up in trying to feel out the space in front of him, Rhys let out a terrified scream when the world around him was bathed in red. 

Flashing emergency lights filled the area. An automated voice came out of the speakers, but Rhys barley registered what it was saying as the yawning pit of fear opened up in his stomach. 

This was the airlock warning… Someone, or something had triggered the airlock sequence and he was about to be flung out into space!

Fear kept him still for only a moment more before long legs took off down the hallway.

He needed to find a way out of this sector, or at least into a room! Mind frantic, the auburn haired man sprinted down the hall, flashing lights disorientating him as he tried to find an open door. But each he passed all had gleaming red panels next to them. The words “Executive Override” mocking him each time.

Becoming even more frantic, Rhys didn't notice the presence following him every step of the way. Didn't hear the additional footsteps keeping time with his own. Looking around frantically, echo eye forgotten, Rhys continued to run the seemingly endless hallway. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna die!”

Coming around the corner, Rhys saw it. At the end of the hallway, feeling like eons away, lied an open doorway. 

Completely pitch black, no indication on what was inside, but with a happily shining green access panel next to it. Pushing against his burning lungs and through the panic of his imminent death, Rhys dashed for the door. Long legs eating up the distance, Rhys goes head long into the dark space. Speed carrying him further into the room, past the door, boots sliding underneath him in his attempts to slow down. His mind is screaming at him to spin around and smack the panel to close the door.

He just barely makes it... but he does. Leaning against the door Rhys can feel the change in pressure as the airlock disengages on the other side. Forehead pressing flush to it as he tries to drag air into his panting lungs. Adrenaline pumping sharply through his system, mind spinning as he thinks about how close he just got to being sucked out into space…

Rhys doesn't hear anything behind him in the pitch black room. Doesn't see the light shimmer in the blackness or the form coming close to him. Has no clue he isn't alone until he is slammed hard against the door and a slick wet feeling is sliding against his port. 

“Ahhhahnnn!” Rhys flails as pleasure shoots from his port to his groin. His cock pulses with all the blood rushing to it, not knowing any better from fear of death or arousal. 

He braces his arms against the door and pushes back only to be met with a solid warm form. Pushing in from behind him harshly, so much so that Rhys can swear that he can make out the feel of buttons on a jacket and a belt buckle digging into his lower back. Which is weird, right? Ghost wearing clothes is weird? 

A strong pressure pushes on his shoulders and forces him flush with the door. His erection rubbing roughly against the solid surface. Rhys can't help the low moan that slips from his lips, but gets no time to even be embarrassed about it. Calloused hands are all over him, grabbing his arms, caressing his neck, settling harshly on his hips and pulling them back solidly against an obviously aroused length.

God he can feel it. Pressing against his ass through his slacks, hard, warm, and big… he doesn't even realize he is pressing back until a low growl comes from behind him. 

It’s Jack… this is Handsome Jack, and it's wrong, it's so, so, so very wrong! 

It's wrong… but… it feels so fucking good.

He almost just died, ok?! He should be able to have this!

Unconsciously, Rhys starts up a tentative grind. Pushing back against that hard length and feeling it drag against him. Body relaxing as the endorphins rush his head, his torso melting into the door frame as his mind clouds over. Higher brain function leaving him with ever roll of his hips.

It takes no time at all for the responding push of the hips behind him. The rocking taking a slightly rougher turn and strong hands gripping even tighter at his hips. The whimpers leaving Rhys are all subconscious at this point, he doesn't even know he is making any noise until two fingers push roughly into his mouth and cut him off. 

Startled for a moment, he doesn't react, can only register the taste of salt and skin on his tongue. But with a solid jab from the fingers against his tongue, Rhys finds himself easily falling into the same rhythm as his hips. 

Sucking at the digits. Worshiping them. 

These were the hands the built Helios. The ones that brought Hyperion to greatness. 

Even if they were in ghost form, Rhys couldn't even fight being helplessly turned on by the sheer power they had held.

So lost in the feeling, Rhys doesn't notice the hand on his right hip leaving. Doesn't register it moving to his front until it roughly grabs at his shirt, yanking it free of his pants. Dropping his own hands from the door Rhys attempts to help remove his shirt by working open the buttons, but his hands are clumsy. It's not quick enough as the same hand that pulled his shirt free grabs it on one side and rips sharply. The sounds of torn fabric and buttons pinging off the floor rings in his ears and he lets out a startled moan. 

A large warm hand spans part of his chest, skimming over his nipple before grabbing and twisting it. Rhys mouth drops open against his will as a long moan falls out around the fingers on his tongue. 

His open mouth seems to be the opportunity that it's been waiting for to slide a third finger in alongside the others. Lips pulled wide around the digits, Rhys goes back sucking as best he can. He's starting to go a little fuzzy as the fingers get rougher. Sliding further back in his mouth and flirting with the back of his throat.

Rhys pulls his head back, letting the fingers slide out as he takes a deep breath.

He wants, he wants something else. He wants the cock rubbing against him in his mouth, he wants to choke on it.

The responding growl next to his ear makes him wonder if he said that out loud? 

But there's no time to dwell on it. A rough hand in the middle of his shoulders keeps him pressed to the door before dropping and joining its counterpart at his belt. 

They make quick work of the clasp, button and fly, before swiftly pulling down his pants and underwear to mid thigh. Rhys gasps at the suddenness of it all and the cool air of the room hitting his skin. 

The clinking of another belt buckle being opened and a shift of fabric is the only warning he gets before a hard length is pushing vertically between his cheeks. It's warm. So warm. Is it supposed to be so warm? Aren't ghosts supposed to be cold? 

Wait… 

Do ghosts wear belts?

Closing his eyes tight to the darkness of the room, he tries to wrap his head around the situation. But a firm glide of that length against his hole knocks his thoughts right off the rails and back into the gutter. 

The dirty grind they had picking back up with solid pushes from the form behind him. Letting out a startled moan at the feel but trying so hard to think through the shocks of pleasure, Rhys stumbles over his words “Wai-t, ahhnn… wha-what the fuck is going on?!”

There is no verbal response. Instead, he gets what feels like hot breath on his neck before a harsh bite gets him right over his circular tattoos.

Rearing up into the pain, Rhys cries out. He tries to reach up and grab whatever has him, but a strong force grabs both his arms and twists them tight behind his back. Unable to shrug off the hold and already having a system rushing with adrenaline, Rhys can only let out a whimper as his body relaxes into the harsh bite. 

His mind is all over the place, bouncing between fear and lust, pleasure and pain. The auburn haired man doesn't know which way is up. The only thing he does know is that he is so hard it hurts and the cool feeling of the door against his cock is adding an insane juxtaposition to the heat along his spine and rubbing mercilessly at his hole.

When he doesn't try to move his hands the being behind him seems to accept that as him giving in and lets go. Rhys doesn't even try to move then, only grips his own forearms to give him something to hang on too. 

Calloused hands grab his ass, and he can't help but moan. They squeeze tightly and push his cheeks together around the length pushing against him. If the situation was any less ridiculous already, Rhys would be embarrassed at how much he was enjoying himself and how much noise he was making. He couldn't seem to stop! 

But, can you really blame him?! He hasn't gotten laid since coming to Helios. Too busy watching his back for a knife to be able to let himself think with his dick 

And honestly… being at Hyperion. Where Handsome Jack was. It made everyone else there pale in comparison.

And now… now he was between a rock and a hard place, heh… hard place.

Rhys feels the large cock pushing against his pucker and only has enough sense left to realize that if this goes any further it's going to hurt. A lot. Like an embarrassing trip to medical, a lot. 

With that in mind, Rhys tries to speak again “Wa-wait. Please wait f-for just a minute.” the cybernetic man only gets a growl in return and no indication that the presence behind him was going to let up. 

“Pleas-please… H-Handsome Jack, sir. I-I’m not saying no!” The grip on his cheeks gets almost unbarring, he can feel nails digging into his skin. Possibly drawing blood and definitely leaving bruises that will last for days. 

That shouldn't turn Rhys on... but it does. 

Warmth building strongly in his pelvis with each passing second. Losing himself to the sensation, but being unable to miss where the head of the length keeps putting pressure against his hole, Rhys cries out “I need prep! Please, please I need prep! You can't go in dry, I don't want to have to explain that to a med bot, I'll never live it down!” Whimpering in desperation, Rhys voice drops down to a whisper, “Please Jack…”

He can feel tears welling in his eyes at how overwhelmed he feels. Most of his fear has been washed away, but the fine edge of it is still in the back of his mind. 

Everything stops. 

First it's the rough grind against his hips. Then he feels the hands that had been grabbing at him so tightly let go. Lastly, the entire warm presence behind him vanishes. The cold air against his skin is a shock, and the completely unexpected stop equally so. 

Rhys has a solid minute thinking he somehow messed up this whole thing before he gains the courage to tentatively call out.

“J-JaAAAAACK?!”

He’s not prepared for the slick feeling dragging up his crack and over his hole. He's so underprepared that he can't help but scream out and almost lose his balance as his knees threaten to give out. Strong hands grabbing his hips and pushing them flush with the door again being the only thing keeping him up as the slick appendage dragging over his hole goes to town. 

Swirling in tight circles against his pucker, pushing at it every few moments to test its give. If Rhys couldn't stop moaning earlier, nothing could compare to how loud he is being now. Jaw dropped, tongue licking against his bottom lip, whimpers and cries pouring out of his mouth. He can feel the drool starting to slide down his jaw, but he can't seem to give a fuck as he feels the first successful push inside of him.

“O-hhhhh, ggod, Jack!”

It picks up then.

The feeling is relentless, driving in and out of him sharply and making him crave for more. He’s never been eaten out before. Previous hookups thinking the act too intimate, and former relationships thinking it too dirty. Rhys won't lie, he's always been kind of disappointed that he never got the opportunity to try before. But this, now, was sooo much more than he ever could have expected. 

An unseen hand leaves his left hip and drags its nails down his left cheek. Raising thin red lines on pale skin. But it doesn't stop there, it continues on in between his legs to caress his balls before pushing forward to wrap around his cock.

He’s so wet, his cock leaking precum since this all started and not letting up for a second. There is no need for lube or spit, he's created enough himself to make the hard up and down drag along his length a smooth glide.

It's harsh at first, much faster than he usually plays with himself, but he's so into it that he can feel himself hurtling towards the end. 

He’s… he’s going to cum. He's going to cum for a ghost... of his idol... and nothing about that seems weird in this moment as he teeters on the edge.

It's all so much. He can feel it starting in his toes, making them curl in his heeled boots. 

“I-I’m… hahhh, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonn-a c-cum. J-Jaaaack.”

Rhys doesn't need any help over the edge at this point, as long as everything continues at the same pace, he would go head long over the precipice. So he’s completely unprepared for the two fingers that push into him knuckle deep next to that skilled tongue. They are unmerciful as they push past his tight ring, without stopping, with no time to adjust.

It's the unexpected burn that sends him over the edge. 

Crying out has his legs stiffen and his calves shake, fingers on his cybernetic arm digging in harshly against the forearm of his flesh arm. “Fuuuck!” he wails as the first shot rips out of him. The hand around his cock keeping its fast pace, tugging every drop of Rhys cum out of him as he paints the door messy. 

The fingers inside him scissor roughly the whole time, fighting against his contracting muscles and winning.

The hand around his cock lets go, and the tongue at his hole is suspiciously gone too, but Rhys doesn't even have the wherewithal to pay it any mind. 

Shuddering in his aftershocks he almost missing the distinct sound of wet flesh slapping rhythmically behind him. The fingers inside him rip out quickly, causing him to gasp as a large head pushes against his pucker. Still lost in the aftermath of his orgasm, Rhys doesn't even think about how spit is a horrible substitute for real lube. Or how the substandard prep he received is nowhere near enough for the size of the cock ready to enter him. 

All Rhys can think about is the fact that he wants it inside him. He wants Handsome Jack inside him, whatever way he can. 

The rhythmic slip slide sounds don't stop and Rhys has an idea that the other is planning on coming on him, but Rhys has other ideas.

Canting his hips and pushing back, Rhys can feel where the head of the length starts to push inside. A large hand grabs at his left hip, squeezing harshly, but Rhys is determined. Prying the cybernetic fingers from his flesh arm, he lets it drop on top of the unseen hold on his hip. Lacing his fingers around the warm ones leaving indents in his skin, he pushes back again with his hip.

Slowly, steadily, but unrelenting. He keeps going, breathing past the discomfort until the large head pushes inside the first ring with a pop. 

Rhys can't stop the grunt he lets out, and the whimper that follows as he hears a growl from behind him. A pressure settles in between his shoulder blades. What feels like hair brushing against his skin, and a harsh scrape of something metal. 

It only takes him a moment to realize that it's a face. A face well known to wear a mask with metal clasps. From there it's not hard to imagine it in his head, Handsome Jack hunched over Rhys bowed back, forehead resting on his back as he watches the head of his own cock disappear into Rhys' tight hole.

The image makes his cock twitch in a valiant effort to get hard again, but it's no use. He is so spent he's unsure when he'll ever get hard again. But he's enjoying the stabs of pleasurable-pain as he's stretched around the tip of the length inside him. The presence makes no effort to push all the way in, and honestly, Rhys is ok with that.

It hurts. There is no avoiding that, but it's a burn that he craves. Just like he craves wanting to make them finish. Tightening his internal muscles, Rhys squeezes tightly around the feeling inside him and hears a loud grunt and feels the woosh of air along his spine. Shivering, Rhys does it again, noticing that the jerking sounds have picked up in speed. The thwap, thwap, thwap of a fist as it meets his ass and drags quickly down the rest of the cock outside of him. 

With one last tight squeeze, Rhys lets out a whimper of Jack’s name, and that's all it seems to take for all the tension to break. He can feel every shudder, every shot of warmth inside his hole, filling him up. 

Who knew ghosts could cum?

The hand holding his at his hip squeezes harshly, little jerks from it pull Rhys further onto the cock inside him, but still nowhere near all the way. It's too dry, too rough for it to just slide inside like Rhys would want.

With one last shudder, everything goes still. Only Rhys own harsh pants being heard, blocking out any other sound in the room. Rhys feels the hand joined with his shake him off, and he lets his arm flop uselessly to his side. With a small push to his back the cock inside him pulls out, dragging a low moan from Rhys throat with it. Previously rough fingers keep him spread with soft touches, and Rhys swears he can feel the gaze searing into him as cum starts to leak from his hole. 

He's glad the room is pitch black and no one can see how red his face is right now. 

Soon, the presence is gone from him entirely, hands slipping away.

Rhys finally lets his legs give out and slides to the floor, paying no mind to the cooling cum on the door rubbing off onto his skin and shirt. Slumping from his knees onto his back, Rhys tries to catch his breath as he lays down. But he can feel his eyelids drooping, heavy with exhaustion as all the adrenaline in his system finally crashes down. From one blink to the next, he's out.

He never hears the other harsh breaths in the room. Never heard the shuffling of clothes and re=clasping of a belt. Never sees the glimmer in the darkness that shines for a moment before the door opens to the brightly lit hallway, then closes again, casting the room back into total darkness as Rhys sleeps on.

-

The door to the late CEO’s office opens and closes with no warning, only being noticed by the immaculately put together assistant sitting at the desk outside of it. 

Standing up, she heads to the doors herself, not brother to knock as they open for her with no need for clearance.

Meg proceeds with sure steps towards the raised desk in the middle of the room, heels clicking on the hard gleaming floors evenly. She has made this trek so many times before that it's ingrained in her to avoid the trap door in the floor.

Nothing looks out of place. Everything was left as is when Handsome Jack’s death was announced. The only thing that one would find odd would be the fact that the grand golden chair the CEO had loved so much was facing away from the room and instead turned straight towards Elpis.

Meg doesn't miss a beat taking the steps up the dais, echo pads in hand being placed on the desk with a click. She’s done this so much that she barely even flinches when the chair spins around at a high speed all on its own to face her. 

Nothing happens. Nothing moves.

Meg barley breaths, but refuses to give away the fact that she can feel a bead of sweat sliding down her neck. Crossing her arms, and letting an eyebrow raise in the most unimpressed look possible, she waits…

“God you're no fun!” yells a voice from the seemingly empty chair before a glimmer starts to appear in the seat, slowly revealing the man sitting in it. 

Meg maintains her unimpressed expression, refusing to give away any of her unease. “Sorry, sir. But that trick has kind of worn thin over the last two months.”

Jack blows out a breath and spins around in the chair, once, twice, before grabbing the desk to stop his momentum. “And what a two months is has been! Ya know, if I knew my death would up productivity this much and give me a chance to weed out those asshole Board members, I would have “died” years ago.”

Snatching the pocket watch from his vest, Jack throws it onto the desk, idly noticing how warm it had gotten. He really got use out of it today, almost didn't make it back to the office. Which, honestly would have sucked given it would have blown his entire plan! And for what, a slutty fanboy with legs for days? He would have had to kill him, and that would have just been a waste!

Jack shook his head and turned his attention back to his assistant as she asked, “Did you have fun harassing the employees, sir?”

Thinking back again to the auburn haired man he left filled with his cum in an unused lab in R & D, Jack couldn't help the dirty smile that split across his face. 

“You betcha, doll! Really got to- to let off some steam, ya know?” laughing at his own joke as he brought up his holo screen, quickly typing in something that Meg couldn't see. Wondering what he was working on, Meg barley heard his question, “Are these what I’m hoping they are?” 

Looking down at the echo pads she had placed on the desk before looking back up to meet his mismatched gaze, Meg shook herself of the curiosity and nodded.

Curiosity got you killed at Hyperion. 

Whatever he was looking up, was none of her business. 

Pointing to each echo pad, Meg explained which held what content. “This is the info you wanted on the Crimson Raiders, Lilith, Roland, and Sanctuary.” Pointing with a perfectly manicured finger she moved on to the next “This is the information we have on the Vault of the Warrior,” and the last “... and here is the information you wanted on that creepy guy, the one obsessed with you, Professor Nakayama.”

Gleefully Jack snatched the pads and brought them closer to himself, hugging them to his chest before his eyes dragged back to his holo screen. With a smile that made Meg shudder on a good day, and duck and cover on a bad day, she pressed on. 

“With the information we have here, you should hopefully be allowed to make your “Return from the Dead” in a little less than a month.” That seemed to fully grab the murderous CEO’s attention as he sprung out of his chair and let the echo pads drop to the desk with a clatter. Not giving a fuck if he damaged them or not, he stepped around the desk, armed stretched above his head as he cracked his interlaced knuckles. 

Throwing his arm around Meg’s shoulder he turned them back towards the entrance to his office. Giving her no option but to move with him, Meg found them walking away from the desk. She noticed he smelled like blood, gun powered, and… vanilla ice cream?

“That's perfect pumpkin, perfect. I am so ready to not be dead anymore. Don't get me wrong! I'm having a killer time, heh- pun intended. But it really really fucking sucks when you can't talk to anyone. Not that any of the brain dead peons on this space station are worth talking too… But it's really killing my hate boner when I can't even tell them why they are being strangled to death!”

Doing her best not to trip over her heels at Jack’s fast pace, and trying not to think too hard about the strange smell or the amount of people that had been strangled by the hands currently leading her out the door, Meg replied “I know sir. But we can't risk people thinking you might be alive, and in most ghost stories… they don't talk.” 

She pauses for a moment at the door to let it open before slipping out from under Jack's arm. “We are lucky we can get away with all the laughter…” she adds once she is clear of the door frame. 

“The laughter! Oh it really is a gem! I have never seen so many people piss themselves in one sitting!” letting out a maniacal laugh, Meg can completely understand why the workers of Helios would be terrified. That laugh was bad enough without adding superstition and a possibly homicidal ghost to the mix. 

“Anywho, sweet cheeks, Jack’s got work to do and so do you! So… ya know. Get back too it.” making shooing motions with his hands as the door closes Jack turns back to his desk. Yelling out to the voice activated locks, he hears the satisfying click as they engage. 

-

On the other side of the door, Meg lets out a calming breath. Sparing a quick glance at the red panel by the door showing it was locked before shaking her head and going back to her desk. 

Before she can even think about what she has next on her agenda, the echo com buzzes to life on her desk. Hitting the button without delay, she calls out, “Sir?”

“Hey Pumpkin, do me a favor… or really it's your job, so actually, do your job, and get me all the info on the echo eye transplant procedure.”

“Echo eyes? I thought you didn't want to hear about that until the success rate increased? You just had me send a memo to the cybernetic department that they would be dropped into the stalker pit in R & D if they didn't get better results…”

“Well yeah, I remember that dumb dumb. But I don't really need to explain to you why I want what I want, do I? Ya know, since I already mentioned THAT IT'S YOUR FUCKING JOB!” Meg pushed back sharply in her chair, as if she was scared the sound itself would hurt her. 

Realizing her mistake, she quickly responded “Of course sir, sorry sir. I will get that to you immediately.” Turning towards her holo screen, she was already working quickly to gather the demanded data. 

“Good girl. And hey, I want specific information on the people who survived. Names, address, departments. The whole shebang. I want to know where the fuck these people grew up, and if they like sugar or cream in their coffee. Hell, I want to know the last time they got laid. Really go alllll out, m'kay kiddo?”

Refusing to even question why the hell he wanted to know that kind of stuff, Meg just added a deep investigation on each survivor to her list of things to do. Replying with a “Yes sir, Handsome Jack.” before letting out a shuddering breath as she heard the echo com click off. 

-

Kicked back in this throne, feet up on the desk, Jack stared intensely at the holo screen in front of him. With a dirty smirk, Jack looked over the company picture for one Rhys Strongfork. Remembering trembling lips, whimpering moans, and the way the kid called out his name as he came, had Jack adjusting himself in his pants. 

“Oh Rhysie, we are gonna have so much fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, you're telling me that Handsome Jack, the Handsome Jack, had the ability to cloak himself and didn't mercilessly fuck with his employees? 
> 
> Yeah, no. I ain't buying it. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys this. This is my favorite ship, hands down. And I am so excited to be apart of it living on!
> 
> Comments are life, Kudos are love.


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